Right Under Your Nose
by Ms. Nobody
Summary: Jack is on the hunt for a new sort of treasure, and Sophie happens to be on the way. Unknown to Jack, what he needs is right under his nose. WORTH READING!
1. Sophie, Shame of France

The ballroom was crowded; immediately, Sophie was uncomfortable. Her lace sleeves covered anything she would possibly be worried about, but still, she was nervous: nervous her secret would leak out, nervous she would lose control.

Her gown rustled in a wide radius around her waist, which was cinched in to its absolute smallest point. Her voluptuous breasts were pushed high on her chest with a low cut neckline and lacey trim, and the black silk matched her hair perfectly. She walked through the mess of people towards the head of the room, where King George II and his wife sat and overlooked his ball. She stopped in front of him and curtseyed gracefully and deeply. His eyes narrowed, then widened again.

"Mademoiselle Josephine DeLancret! Why, I remember your mother quite clearly!" He stated jovially, his attempt at a French accent horrid.

"Actually, your Highness, it is now Countess. I have become of age," Sophie said politely.

The king nodded enthusiastically. "Ah, yes, taking your mother's place."

Yes, Sophie's mother, Soleil, was the pride of France. The husband of a Count, the beautiful young woman was partly responsible for saving an alliance with Italy as well as helping said King when his wife and son were extremely sickly.

Her mother was now passed on; when Isabelle was only nine years old, she passed away from a chest infection. Her father, Phillip, was too busy for her and sent her to her Aunt, Nadine, to be cared for. Her Aunt Nadine immediately sent her away with her cousin Galvin into the Orient; she didn't like children. There, they were separated. Isabelle was taken in by a monk to a special training academy for Geisha. She knew not of what happened to her cousin, whom she cared for deeply.

"She helped my son and wife just after you were born. What an angel she was! What a loss!" Next to him, his wife, Queen Caroline, smiled and nodded in agreement.

Sophie nodded politely. Sometimes, she was sick of hearing of her angelic mother.

King George read her mind. "You look just like her. You've grown into a beautiful young woman, Sophie. I am so glad to have you. I'm sure my son," He coughed, "will be excited to see such a lovely mademoiselle at his birthday ball!" Again, Sophie cringed at his detestable accent, but before she did, she remembered the rumor that the King and his first son did not get along so well.

As if on cue, Prince Frederick walked into the ballroom.

"Frederick! We were just speaking of you," said his mother animatedly.

"Were you, Mother?" His voice was smooth and drawn.

"Indeed we were," his father answered. Suddenly, he shifted his attention again to Sophie. "Frederick, I'm sure you remember Josephine DeLancret?"

He looked blankly at her for a moment before the connection was made in his mind. "You mean, as in, the daughter of Countess Soleil DeLancret?"

Sophie nodded and smiled politely again, again hiding her annoyance. It seemed she would never grow out of her mother's diplomatic shadow.

Frederick's face lit up, but the light was dull. "Lovely! My, you've grown."

"As I would imagine, so have you, my lord, though I can't say I remember at all." She fought to remove any cynical sort of tone from her voice. She put a placating smile on.

"Yes. You were barely a year old. I was only six years old myself." The prince was obviously oblivious to any implications in her tone, anyway. He went on, "And that would make you, say, eighteen now, would it not?"

Sophie nodded.

"Ah! And married?

"No, my lord."

"I'm surprised," He said, then babbled on about how he was searching for a wife and how his duty as the Prince of Wales neglected him the priviledge of searching for one, then on longer about something that Sophie didn't catch. Without even knowing it, she was convinced into conversation and company, then it was demanded that she stay the night, or as long as she pleased.

* * *

Sophie had not yet removed her dress, and she was sitting on the edge of her bed, staring into space. The night had been long and grueling, the company witless, and the food dull. Now, despite the tiring hours of standing, sitting, and dancing stiffly, she could not bring herself to undress. She looked around the room. In the middle of the wall opposite the bed was a giant wardrobe. Other than that, a nightstand, and a giant chandelier, the room was scantly decorated. The moon shined brightly through the glass doors to the balcony that overlooked the garden. 

The reluctant Countess despised the world she had been thrust into upon her return to Europe. Not that she would go back into the Far East; never would she return there. But she hated the falsity and pretenses and drama of the noble world of Europe, the fake clothes and bodies and personalities.

Suddenly there was a heavy knock on the door, and without her even going to it, it was pushed open. She was surprised to see the Prince, Frederick, on the other side.

"My lord?"

He didn't reply. Instead he stumbled in and fell onto her, pushing her mercilessly onto the bed.

"I. . . can't. . .breath. . ." She gasped as she tried to push him off of her. He didn't move. Her corset dug into her abdomen and she cried out in pain. Frederick grinned stupidly

"You're quite a pretty lady. I wonder what you taste like," He stuttered.

At the sound of his slur, Sophie's adrenaline began to pump. As he slid down her body and found the hem of her skirts, she kicked him away with all of her might. "Stay away from me, you drunken idiot!"

Her resistance only inflamed his alcohol-instigated conquest, and he fought harder. Becoming desperate, Sophie eyed the sword around his waist. She pushed him back roughly with one great burst of power, and the inebriated man fell against the wardrobe. She ran up behind him and grabbed his sword as he began to get up.

"You wench," He cursed as he stood, hunched over. "Ye'll pay for that." He reached for his sword and pointed at her, without it in hand.

Again he cursed. This time, he pulled out a pistol.

"Ye've angered me for the last time, wench!" The trigger pulled back.

But a shot never hit her. She cut his arm off at the elbow before the trigger was released.

The shot echoed through the halls of the estate. Suddenly, fear ran cold in her blood. She heard the clattering of armor. The guard was on its way.

Sophie knew she had to move, fast. She took the prince's clothes and two dresses from the wardrobe, as well as a pair of soft leather boots and slippers, threw them on the bed, and wrapped them in the top sheet. She tied the ends of the sheet, took the prince's sword, and ran out the glass doors onto the balcony. She stood on the stone railing and heard the guards clanging up the stairs shortly outside her room's door. She wasted no time and ripped open the back of her dress, which was simple enough; the part she needed to come off was made of lace. Beneath the lace there was a tattoo of delicate iridescent wings. Sophie closed her eyes and whispered, "_Volatilis"_, and the tattooed wings on her back began to flutter. Soon, they ripped off her body and grew, and she cried out. Her concentration didn't lessen, and by the time the first guard got to the doorway, she was airborne.

This was her curse.

(A/N: This is the first chapter of it all, then! I just wanted to let you know that everything is based strictly in history, from the king and queen and prince to the costumes. The only thing that is not, thus far, is the prince getting his arm cut off. That's a bit of poetic license. Reviews, flames, criticisms, all welcome. I hope you enjoy; the next chapter will come soon!)


	2. Her Curse

Sophie landed in a thick forest by the port. Her wings folded into themselves and returned to their decorative position on her shoulder blades. Twenty feet away, she heard the bustle of the port of Dover. Immediately, her ears picked up the nearest voices. They were two officers. She heard her name, and the word "Wanted."

She cursed. In the back of her head, she hoped that the Prince was alright, but she knew she couldn't go back. No one would believe that she cut off his arm in an act of self defense.

She looked around. The woods were thick, with nowhere to be seen from but above. She started to undress. Her black gown would not due for a stowaway on a ship, which was her plan of action. She untied the bed sheet and pulled out the Prince's clothes, slipping the final parts of the dress off of her soft body. Standing naked, drenched in moonlight, one could see every tattoo on her body.

A snake was tattooed up the inside of her right wrist, a dragon on the inside of her left. On her bottom was a dolphin leaping from one side to her spine to the other. On the left side of her neck, right behind her ear, was a small fish, and on the back of both arms were raven wings. The wings she had used just previously, on her shoulder blades, were butterfly wings. They draped down to the middle of her back. On the top side of her right wrist was a chameleon whose tail wrapped around her pinky. On her left middle finger was a small firefly. There was a vine of ivy wrapped around her right calf and flowers tattooed in a line that wrapped around her left. A swirling cloud was under her right breast and a seahorse was on the top of her left thigh. Along the edge of the top of her right breast were stars, as there were on her neck on the left and on her face, above her eyebrow by her hairline on the right, and around her belly button and left nipple.

She sighed. She had been cursed for years, but being back in Europe just illuminated the fact once again to her.

When she was in the Far East, particularly Japan, she was sent to a school under the premise that it was for Geisha. Soon, after she picked up every rule they had so quickly, she was sent on past the other girls to a special house. There, thinking she was going to become a Geisha for kings, she was taught to fight. Once she was strong enough, they bestowed what they called the "blessing" upon her. There was some lore to go with it, but she hadn't listened hard enough to remember. She had left immediately, but not without being completely tattooed upon first.

Her tattoos came to life, all in different ways. They were embodiments of the powers she had been given. The dragon came alive off of her arm and protected her briefly, and allowed her to call on the assistance of fire. The snake allowed her to slip out of tough situations and places by elasticizing her body. The dolphin let her swim under tremendous water pressure, and the fish let her breath underwater. The raven wings let her fly with cover, the butterfly wings let her fly with speed, but not at the same time. The chameleon allowed her to be unseen unless someone knew exactly where to look for her. The firefly made her glow. The vine came off of her in impossible lengths and served whatever purpose it was given. The flowers came off of her and grew on the ground she walked on. The cloud called gusts of air, and changes in temperature and weather. The seahorse allowed her to call on the assistance of water.

She could not use them if they were covered, nor if she was bound.

Nor could she use them if she could not speak.

The other problem with this so called gift was that it drained her energy horribly. The only powers she could use without serious stress on her body were her raven wings and the flowers, the latter of which happened spontaneously.

Now, she changed into the Prince's clothes, tucking her long black hair under a bandana and fastening his belt around her waist. She put the soft leather boots on and dropped the sword into its holster. Looking over herself, she removed any decoration or design quickly. She then tied up the bed sheet again, threw it over her shoulder, and faced the wall of trees and underbrush.

Immediately, the trees recoiled their roots and the underbrush disappeared into ash in front of her. She took a step, and it disappeared another foot further ahead. She began to walk faster. Suddenly, she tripped out onto the dock. She stood up straight and brushed herself off.

Behind her, in the woods, was a trail of flowers.

(A/N: Chapter 2! I would appreciate reviews! Don't worry, all of this curse/blessing crap is going to be explained, at very least to the point where you're not so baffled. Again, reviews are nice, and I'll be happy to review back!)


	3. Problem Solved

The ship beneath his feet rocked liltingly as he turned to face his crew.

"Captain, what are our bearings?" shouted the first mate over the smash of the water against the walls of the ship. They were in the upper middle Atlantic Ocean, and the weather was already too cold for many of the deckhands.

The captain pulled out his compass and watched it spin erratically until it came to a stop, pointing North-Northeast. He shouted his findings.

"England, Captain?"

"England, Gibbs."

That night, on the ship, the Captain addressed his crews' questions about their destination. "We are going to find what is described," He pulled a roll of parchment out from under his shirt, "on this map."

The entire crew leaned in, confused. "But Captain," One of them voiced, "That's in a whole other language."

Another spoke up, "Chinese, or something."

"What good does it do us if we can't read it?"

"Why are we going to England if it's from China?"

The Captain cleared his throat and the questions stopped. "We are going to find out how to read it."

"In England, sir?"

The Captain grinned. "No, France."

* * *

Captain Jack Sparrow stepped down the gangplank of the Black Pearl in front of his crew onto the foggy port in Dover, England. The weather was clammy, and many of the men, instead of coming out into England with the Captain chose to retreat to their hammocks and wrap themselves in a blanket or six. 

Sparrow wandered to the nearest pub and kicked the door open. The entire pub went quiet for a moment as everyone turned to glare at him and the part of his crew that had joined him. He looked around uncomfortably.

Suddenly he growled a greeting, "Aye!"

The rest of the pub shouted a drunken, happy "Ey!" in return and went back to their brawling and drinking. Sparrow cackled loudly and walked inside.

The rest of the crew busied themselves with rum and whores. Jack, on the other hand, was focused. He unrolled a piece of parchment that he removed from its place, tucked beneath his shirt. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

He cursed. This map did nothing for him; it was in an alien language and the area was unrecognizable. Damn the whelp who gave him a map written in Japanese!

In all reality, he had forced said whelp, who had been a rather distraught guard in Governor Quixcompuex of New Orleans's map vault, to give it to him on pain of death at sword point. How Quixcompuex had gotten a hold on it was beyond Jack, and so here he was, on his way to finding out more.

All Jack Sparrow could find out was that Quixcompuex had recently come to New Orleans to govern with his wife and son from Calais, France, their hometown. Now, he was off to find Jeanette Fasset, who was the family's maid before they left the country. He had stopped in Dover for a quick restocking and release for the men; He didn't trust France to provide him with either once they arrived. In fact, Jack wanted his stay in France to be as short as humanly possible.

* * *

Sophie took off at a sprint. Her hair had slipped from her bandana just as she passed a mess of guards, and now they were after her. She ran down the docks, not willing to take the time and rip her clothing to reveal anything that may help her. The guards fell behind, but she didn't stop. 

Jack, annoyed with the map and now concerned about operating in France with no knowledge of the language and little of the culture, stomped out of the pub and onto the dock. He paused in the middle of the way, as if contemplating his next move, when a body smashed into him roughly and they both collapsed to the ground.

"Bloody hell, mate! What do ye think yer doing?" He cursed, and then looked up. There, in boys clothes and a disgruntled expression, was the most French looking girl he had ever seen in his life.

"Help me!" She pleaded.

Jack looked at her, confused, and then noticed the commotion down the dock and the rifles propped on shoulders that belonged to the Royal Guard. His eyebrows shot up and he looked back to the begging girl, back to the Guard with uneasy expression, and once again back to the girl.

"Please!"

His uneasy expression not gone, he jumped to his feet and pulled the girl up and pointed her to his ship, but not before lifting her long hair, laying it, folded over, on top of her head, and taking the hat off of his own head and shoving it on hers.

He watched, still grimacing, as the girl ran up his gangplank and buried herself under the surplus anchor rope. The guard ran up, panting. One of them stood straight up and stopped, and looked at Jack.

"Did you see a girl with long black hair in boys clothes run by?"

Jack faked contemplation on the concept and nodded slowly.

"Yeah, yes, mmhmm, she ran into," He looked around, "That pub," said he, pointing the rowdy place he'd just come out of.

Without so much as a thank you, that officer ran off into the pub.

Jack grinned broadly as he heard the place go into an uproar. He walked towards his ship.

"Lass, where are ye?"

She didn't come out. Already tired of playing this game, he sighed and knocked over the top of the stacked rope. There sat the French girl, terrified out of her wits.

"Bloody hell, missy, what was that about?"

When she saw that it was only the man who'd helped her earlier, she relaxed.

"Well?"

"Oh, erm. . .They thought I stole a dress from a rich fat lady," She lied. Then she remembered the makeshift satchel below her.

"Did ye?"

"Uh, no."

"Liar. How much can ye fetch for it?"

Sophie's eyes widened. She looked around the ship. Somehow, she was reassured. This man was a pirate!

"Pirate!"

"Thief!"

"What?"

"Thief, I said," He repeated, annoyed.

"Oh. Wait, no, I'm not!"

"Then what are you sitting on?"

She blushed.

"I didn't steal a dress from a fat lady. I stole it from the Prince."

Jack shrugged. "And that's what they're after ye about?"

"Err, no. They're a little too, uh, preoccupied with the Prince missing an arm to worry about a dress."

Jack's eyes widened. "Ye cut the Prince's arm off?"

She grimaced.

"Who are ye, lass?"

She paused, and said carefully, "Sophie," the nickname her cousin Galvin had given her long ago. A pang for him hit her heart.

Jack nodded, contemplating the situation. The girl was French looking; she probably knew French and France itself, and she could be of great use in Calais, looking for Jeanette Fasset. He nodded.

"Ye're staying."


	4. Challenge

Jack went down to the crew's quarters and roused Gibbs, who shouted something about damning Jack and his mother to hell and how unlucky it was to make someone fall out of a hammock. Jack simply raised a cynical eyebrow and told him to gather the crew. They were to set sail in one hour, whether everyone was on board or not.

He climbed the stairs back to the deck and gathered up Sophie before Gibbs got there, and took her to his cabin. There he sat her down on his bed, took his hat back, and sat himself down on his desk's chair.

"Thank you, so much, Monsieur. . .uh. . .?"

"Sparrow. _Captain_ Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl," He said proudly.

"Captain Sparrow, then."

He nodded. Sophie looked around the cabin. His bed was sturdy and broad, with multiple unmatched sheets, pillows, and covers on it. His desk was cluttered with maps and tools and pens and ink, and the floor near the bed was littered with rum bottles and crumpled paper. The ceiling had a stain on it, and Sophie was afraid to ask what it was.

"Now, little missy, why don't you tell me what happened, eh? For instance, why ye cut the prince's arm off."

"Well, Captain, he. . .he. . .came after me. I didn't know what to do."

"And why were ye in the castle in the first place?" He asked contemplatively

She paused, then said carefully, "I'm a maid."

"Liar."

"I am not!"

He grinned. "Ye are." He paused. "Ye're French, are you not?"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Yes. . .but what does that have to do with me being a liar?"

"Aha! So ye are a liar. But you're French. Good."

She shook her head in confusion. "Why do you ask, Monsieur?"

Jack turned his chair and leaned towards her. He had opened his mouth in preparation to speak, but a loud bang on the door interrupted them. Jack turned his head as Gibbs opened the door.

"A woman! Captain, that's awful bad luck on the crew," Said Gibbs. Sophie glared at him. He glared back, then looked at the pair and how close Jack was leaning towards the girl. A look of silent revelation came over his face, and he stepped back slowly and closed the door with him. Before it shut, he said through the crack, "We be ready, sir." They were already off the docks and into open water.

Jack cleared his throat uncomfortably and stood. "Aye! Set sail for Calais!"

"Captain! I need to go!" Exclaimed Sophie, who also stood.

"Ye're going nowhere, little strumpet."

Jack left the room with Sophie in it, and she cursed. As he went up to the deck, he was greeted by the suspicious looks of all the crew. 'Damn you, Gibbs,' He thought.

"GIBBS!"

Gibbs rushed to where Jack was standing and stated, "Aye, Captain!"

"What possessed you to open your mouth?"

Gibbs looked at the Captain, stunned. He stuttered. Jack covered his eyes with his hand in frustration, then turned to address the rest of the crew.

"I assume ye all know that there is a woman on board."

The crew stopped working and turned towards Jack.

"Answer me!"

"Aye, Captain!"

"Let me make this perfectly clear, then. None of ye scurvy dogs are to be touching Miss. . . Sophie. Savvy?" It occurred to Jack that he knew not Sophie's last name.

"Aye, Captain."

"Good. Catch the current and we'll be in Calais in less than a day's trip." He turned on his heels and went back to his cabin.

When he got there, there was no woman to be seen. The porthole was open, and a sheet was tied to the bedpost. Jack cursed and poked his head through the porthole. There he saw the end of the sheet, but no girl. He looked to the waves below, and shook his head, whacking it off the side of the hole. He looked at the porthole and wonder how a voluptuous girl like Sophie could fit through it. Gingerly, he backed out and away from the window. Still looking at it, he said, "She was such a pretty lass, too." He put his hat to his chest.

"Do you really think?"

Jack spun around to see Sophie standing there with a sword pointed at his neck. With widened eyes, Jack nodded carefully, taking pains to make sure his neck was not cut, and said, "Of course! You're positively lovely."

Suddenly, the girl at the other end of the sword became immensely attractive to him. "I love a girl with a sword."

Sophie felt herself blushing, and urged it away. In the back of her head, she was slightly worried that she was improvising, and she hoped desperately that she would find some common points between a rapier and the traditional swords of Japan. Meanwhile, Jack was turning the concept of sleeping with this girl over in his head. He pushed the tip of her sword away with his fingers. "You're extremely clever, lass. Ever think of being a pirate?"

Instead of taking time to think over what he just said, Sophie swung her sword to right between his legs. "_Captain_ Jack Sparrow, I demand you take me back."  
Jack put on a crooked, oddly charming smile. "What are ye going back to, lassie? To the Guard capturing you? Stay."

Sophie faltered, and Jack took this time to step away from her sword and draw his own. "You bastard!" She cursed. Their swords clashed, and they challenged each other and stepped in, closing the space between them. With nothing but their swords between them, they stared into each other's eyes; Sophie's eyes angry and fierce, and Jack's cocky and challenging.

Sophie suddenly felt an intense desire for this wild man in front of her. She longed to drop her sword and plant her lips against his. Instead, she stepped back and drew her sword's blade up and down Jack's tauntingly.

"You think it wise to challenge a pirate, girl?"

(A/N: Chapter 4, then. You gotta love a girl with a sword. Reviews always appreciated)


	5. On the Way to Calais

Sophie swung her sword first. Jack countered and Sophie parried, and then she swung her sword viciously again. Jack simply blocked once more. Becoming agitated, the girl fought back harder. Jack smiled and sliced at her, cutting a slice in her shirt that just barely centered on her breastbone. She looked down, gasped, then looked back up, glaring at Jack and clutching her shirt closed.

"I'm impressed," He said patronizingly. He didn't make it clear what he was impressed about.

"Do not flatter me, sir." She lunged, and Jack jumped back, just barely avoiding the shining blade.

"Then I suppose I should embarrass you."

Sophie looked at him in confusion, her sword still up. Jack immediately hooked the tip of his sword under the hilt of hers and flung it across the room, where it landed perfectly stabbed in the cabin door's woodwork. Her jaw dropped.

Jack smiled again, and put the tip of his sword under her chin, pressing her jaw up and her mouth closed. Sophie gulped.

"Don't worry, lass, I'm not going to off you."

Sophie was not convinced. "Then why is your sword still at my throat?"

"Well," Jack said slowly, "I would hate for ye to run over and try to get yer sword again, because while I won't kill you, ye'd kill me."

Jack neared her, changing the angle of his sword as not to cut her, but to still be placed menacingly at her throat. "Now, will ye calm down? You are going to help me, little missy."

Sophie shook her head, slightly intoxicated by the closeness of Captain Jack Sparrow. "I'm no wench."

Sparrow let out a belching laugh. "Wench? I don't need a wench, you dolt. I can get a wench anytime."In his head, he surprised himself by thinking, 'I need a lover.' He shook his head and got rid of the thought. Instead, he said, "I need a Parisian, as it were." He rocked back and forth on his heels.

Sophie furrowed her brow in confusion. Jack was still very near her. "For what?" She mumbled out.

Jack grinned. "Navigational purposes. You see, mademoiselle, I need to find a maid. Since you're, supposedly, in the business, you can help me all the more."

Sophie glared at him. "What's her name?" She asked, pushing his sword to the floor.

"Who?" Jack leaned his forearm against the wall and got closer to the girl.

"Uh," She stumbled, "The, uh, maid." Her heart began to race.

Jack used his nose to push Sophie's hair aside. She felt his warm breath as he whispered, "Jeanette Fasset."

Sophie choked on her own breath. "Jeanette!" She stumbled sideways, unintentionally releasing her clutch on her shirt, and said breathlessly, "What do you want with her?"

"Ah, the little strumpet knows Miss Fasset. Good," He said. "Very good." He looked Sophie up and down, including where her shirt hung open to reveal the center sides of her generous breasts. Jack cleared his throat.

"Answer me!" demanded Sophie. She picked up his sword and shoved him against the wall.

Jack sputtered. She held the sword to his throat. "Tables have turned, haven't they, laddie?" She asked in a mocking tone. "Now talk."

"Jeanette Fasset," He gurgled, "Was the maid of a man named Quicompuex, who had a map that he. . . sold to me. I need to find out where the map came from."

Sophie's eyes widened at the name, and she pondered for a moment. "Why don't you just ask him?"

"He, uh. . . Well, he didn't really sell it to me, savvy?"

"Pirate! You stole from my. . ." Sophie stopped.

Jack's eyes turned to slits and he said, "Your what?" He leaned his head towards her.

Sophie faltered. "My, my friend's father."

"Hm. I had heard Quixcompuex had a son, but I wasn't reassured. This is getting more interesting by the second. The maid may be able to lead me to the boy," He paused. "Or maybe you will." His smile was sinister. He pulled a roll of parchment out of its place tucked safely beneath his shirt. "What do you know about this map?"

Sophie snatched the parchment out of his hands and unrolled it, eyes still on the Captain, revealing a delicately articulated contour of Japan with an X in the north end and a complex set of directions written in Japanese. Sophie's eyes widened as she recognized the characters at the bottom; fish, snake, dolphin, dragon, raven, butterfly, ivy, flower, chameleon, firefly, stars, clouds, seahorse.

"Ah, so you know it," Jack said, then paused. "How close were you to the Quixcompuex family?" Sophie glared at Jack. He challenged her with his own glare. "Tell me."

"Not at all. I barely knew them."

Jack laughed out loud. "You are _such_ a bad liar!"

"I am no such thing, and seeing as you're the pirate, I believe it will be my word we'll be trusting."

Jack's grin was wiped off his face. "You will take me to Jeanette Fasset, Mademoiselle Sophie," He said dryly. "We land in Calais in four hours."

He dragged himself away from his close proximity to her and began to go to the door. Desperate, Sophie interjected, "Wait!"

Jack removed the triumphant smile from his face before turning to face the girl. She spoke. "What do you want with the boy?"

"Well, little missy, someone has to read the map."

The door slammed, and Sophie was left with her mouth ajar and heart aching sorely for her cousin.

"What have I started?"


	6. Encounters

Jack returned to his quarters to find Sophie on his bed, knees pulled to her chest and arms crossed angrily. She looked up when Jack came in, but just glared when she recognized him.

"Listen here, missy. I need yer help," He said, trying to ignore the look she was giving him. "Will ye please do it, for Ol' Jack?" He said sweetly. Sophie still glared at him. He sat next to her and stretched out a little, leaning against the wall, then turned his face to her. "Please?"

Jack had the slightest moue on his face. Sophie's heart melted a little. Jack saw the change in her eyes.

"Lass, who are ye, really? Ye are no maid, and I know this."

Sophie pouted. "I'm nobody." She was overcome with an urge to tell him, but if he knew that she was Josephine DeLancret, whose mother, Soleil, had a sister, Nadine, who married a man with the surname Quixcompuex, it'd all be over. Above all, she needed to hide from the monks who had bestowed the curse upon her.

Jack stood, unsure of what to do. "At least tell me your last name, lass."

Sophie paused for a moment. "Personne. Sophie Personne." Really, she was just being redundant. 'Personne' meant 'nobody' in French.

"So, you'll help me!"

Sophie grimaced, then nodded. Ecstatic, Jack put his hands on both sides of her face and kissed her hard on the mouth. She felt her groin tingle with desire.

Jack pulled away and looked at her and the intoxicated look on her face. His heart tugged at his mind and he leaned his head back in towards her. Slowly, carefully, he pursed his lips against hers. His hands moved down onto her neck. He ignored the greasiness that was beginning to line her hair and drew his fingers through it. Sophie let her hands run up Jack's chest, fully aware of his body tensing.

Jack pulled away again and looked Sophie in the eye. His heart raced. Nothing had made him feel like that since Davy Jones raised the Pearl for him.

Meanwhile, Sophie took him by the hand and pulled him towards her on the bed. When he was within reach, she pushed him down onto it and crawled on top of him. Jack had a stupid grin on his face as she pulled his shirt out of his trousers anxiously. He barely noticed the fish tattoo on her neck, under her ear.

Suddenly, they felt the ship slow immensely. On the deck above, the lookout yelled, "Land ho!"

Jack growled in annoyance. Sophie took no notice. "Love," He said. She paused and looked at him. "We're nearin' Calais. We need to be on deck." He stood and tucked his shirt in. Sophie stood, dazed at what had just come over her. As she stood, Jack looked her over.

"Ye can't be prancin' about Calais in a lad's clothes," Jack mentioned, "But we haven't a dress for ye on board."

Sophie pursed her lips thoughtfully, and looked around for her bed-sheet sack. "Where's my bag?"

Jack looked around. "I'll, uh, have it sent down." He went to leave the room, but Sophie stopped him. It seemed the girl would not just let him leave, ever!

"Jack?"

"Yes, lass?"

"Promise me you won't hurt her."

Jack's mouth twitched a little, and he sighed. "Aye." He turned out of the cabin.

Five minutes later, and a crew member dropped the sack in front of her. He bowed cordially, and Sophie caught a blush on his cheeks.

Before he left, Sophie said, "I'm Sophie. What's your name?" and extended her hand.

He kissed it, surprising Sophie. "M'name is Aidan, Miss Sophie. It's a pleasure, to be sure."

Sophie smiled, and Aidan took his leave. She closed the door and smiled again to herself, untying the corners of the bed sheet and pulling out the dresses inside. There was her black dress from the ball the night before and a silvery ivory gown, as well as a more casual dark blue dress and another gown that was a light, minty green. Reasoning that the other two gowns were too formal for a day trouncing around Calais, she opted for the slightly more casual dress. As she took off her boy get-up, she eyed her tattoos and sighed.

She loosely laced her corset from last night onto herself, then put the dress on and laced up the front, tightening the bodice. She tightened the ribbon on the neckline slightly, not bothering to try and tuck her graciously endowed bosom away. Her hips filled out the skirt well enough, but it would do no good to be wandering about without all the formalities. She slipped a thin petticoat on beneath the skirt. Ribbons tied the thick bell sleeves up to reveal the top of her forearms, and she untied them. She couldn't have her tattoos being flashed about the place. Half an hour and eleven pounds of clothing later, there was a knock on the door. Sophie smoothed her dress and opened it.

There stood Aidan again, blushing. "Miss Sophie, I'm here to take ye to the Captain." Sophie looked over her escort. He was tall, lanky, and brunette with a boyish face and an awkward walk. He had wide hazel eyes that were slightly kohled, and his skin was rather dirty. At that last fact, Sophie's nose wrinkled in distaste. When Aidan questioned her look, she shook her head.

Sophie made her way up to the deck for the first time since she got on board. Aidan led the way. When she reached the dim, twilight-lit deck, she searched with her eyes for Jack. All she noticed was that every man on board was looking at her.

Jack was standing by the gangplank, waiting, eating a sort of sandwich, dirty and dressed like a pirate, as usual. Sophie put her hand to her forehead.

"What?" He asked, his mouth full and words a little muffled.

Sophie sighed. "Captain, would you do me the honor of chaperoning me to the privacy of your accommodations?"

Jacks eyes widened in confusion. He looked at his crew, who looked back at him, waiting for his response. Unsure of what to do, he smiled, an attempt of reassuring his crew, and said, "Of course, little missy."

He turned on his heels and began to strut down the gangplank. When he was halfway to the dock, Sophie cleared her throat. Jack stopped and looked over his shoulder, smiling bashfully.

"That's not what you meant, was it, Lass?"

Sophie shook her head. Jack hurried up the gangplank and across the deck, past Sophie and down the stairs. Just a moment later, his head peeked up in resurfacing embarrassment and he pulled Sophie down below with him.


	7. Set in Motion

Sophie followed Jack to his cabin, smiling a little at how angrily he walked. Once inside, he shooed her in past him and slammed the door.

On the deck above, the boys were laughing. Aidan stood where Sophie had left him with a concerned look furrowing his brow.

Back in Jack's quarters, he said, "Little missy, I don't know what ye think yer doing, but _nobody_ orders the Captain of the Black Pearl around. Nobody." His eyes glinted dangerously.

Sophie smirked. She was going to enjoy baffling the captain further. "Well, _Captain_, you overlooked a significant part of your conquest. In France, you cannot be where you are going in such appearances." She gestured to his clothing and his dirty face. In all truth, she had been toying with the concept of not telling him and letting the French citizens hand him over to the guard for insulting them with his presence.

"What's wrong with the way I look?" Jack said with incredulous pride.

"You're dirty."

"Gah!"

Sophie rolled her eyes.

"No matter. _We_ go in the dead of night. _You_ go now. Savvy?" Jack said, an annoyed glare now on his face.

"What?" Sophie asked; it was her turn to be incredulous. "What do you mean, I go now? What on earth am I supposed to do?"

"Well, ye shall find Ms. Fasset and bring her," He gestured with his fingers, pointing to the floor beneath him, "To the docks."

Sophie snorted. Jack's eyebrow raised at the action. "You expect a maid to leave her house to follow a woman she doesn't know to a place where sailors gather and get drunk and fight?"

"Ah, but she does know you."

"I never said that!"

"And pirates come to the docks, too, m'love." He took an instigating step towards her, puffing out his chest.

"Not in Calais." Sophie returned the challenge.

They were too close to each other. Sophie could smell the manly aroma of sweat and rum about Jack, and a slight scent remnant of cinnamon. Jack, meanwhile, had ignored her comment and couldn't take his eyes off of her rosy cheeks and pale skin; the girl had obviously never been to the Caribbean. He couldn't say he found her beautiful; instead she reminded him of a doll of sorts; a doll with omniscient eyes and a mischievous grin. Indeed, he found her alien to him and his past experiences, especially with her dark hair and blue-black eyes and white, white skin.

They surprised themselves when their lips smashed together. Jack pushed her against the door and ran his hands down her sides, grabbing her rear end and holding her up between him and the wall. Her legs wrapped around him, and she grinded against him, moaning a little when he bit her neck.

Seven minutes later, they made their way back on deck, where the crew grinned stupidly at Jack. Sophie rolled her eyes. Nothing had really happened. To stop Jack's insatiable libido (at least, that's the goal she claimed to be chasing), she had pointed out that it was very near night, and that if he wanted the deed he had begged to be done done, she had to leave now. Sophie straightened her clothing, bending over suggestively to instigate Jack further, and then turned tail on him, teasing him until they reached the bottom of the stairs, still out of view of the deck and all that may have been on it. There, she pushed him against the wall and bit his neck hard, leaving a little mark.

In response to his incredulous tone with her after that, she said, "Something to remember me by."

That was only followed with more questions, which Sophie gracefully ignored. Jack, meanwhile, felt an unstable lurch in his stomach. Her tone had made it easy to infer that she was not intending on coming back. Once on deck, she said a personal goodbye to Aidan and walked towards the wall of the ship. She then curtseyed a curt farewell to the rest of the crew and bounced down the gangplank.

Jack waved an overly-perky, fake goodbye to her, then pretended to head back to the heart of the ship. However, he span around after she turned the nearest corner, then motioned for Aidan and another crew hand. "Come on, boys."

The three sauntered down to the docks, and once they were on them, Jack turned and said to Gibbs, "You're in charge."

Gibbs nodded and watched the three men disappear into the shadows of the nearest building.

"Awful bad luck, this sneaking about. Won't bring nothing but trouble," He mumbled.

Already halfway to where Sophie had turned, Jack whispered, "Now we follow her, and make sure she doesn't try to make off, savvy?"

The other two nodded and said, "Aye, Captain."

"Good," said Jack, deviously.

The trio followed Sophie up and down several winding cobblestone streets, until she came to a rather large chateau of sorts. Aidan mumbled that it was about time, and something about how he wasn't sure he even knew the way back. On the lantern-lighted path, which ran along a brick wall around the house, Sophie talked in a hushed voice to a guard standing by the entrance gate. The guard nodded and opened the gate, and Sophie looked around quickly before shuffling inside.

Across the bumpy street, in the shadows, Jack smiled, his gold teeth illuminated in the dull light. "Let's go."

The boys crossed the road between street lanterns, then, flattened against the brick wall, went twenty feet further down the path before the third boy, a tall, intimidating specimen named Marcus, squatted down. He laced his fingers together for a boost for his Captain, who planted his foot firmly in Marcus's palms. The tall man pushed him right up the side onto the broad, decorative top. He did the same for Aidan immediately there after, then accepted Aidan's hand, extended in assistance, as he scampered his own way up the six feet of flat bricks. By the time Marcus had gotten on top, Jack was already on the other side.

Inside of the wall, the house was even more formidable, down to the highly ornamental griffes on the bottom of each arch that lined the front of the house. The lawn was short and neat, the broad marble steps pure white, and the balconies railed. There was even a moderately sized fountain on the far side of the property. Jack's eyes widened and his lips tightened.

"This is going to be a little more difficult than I thought."

"Captain?"

"Alright lads, scratch the plan."

"We aren't going to break in?"

Jack shook his head. "Then what do we do?"

"We wait."


	8. Plotting

The guard at the gate had let Sophie through, recognizing her keenly. After all, she had boarded there for nearly six months with young Galvin.

Inside the gate, Sophie didn't go to the front door. Instead, she went around to the side of the house, where a smaller, less ornamental door sat. She knocked three times and whispered, "Jeanette!"

A short, pale girl with pouting Russian lips and curly chestnut hair came to the door with tired eyes that didn't immediately recognize the girl that she had taken care of for half of a year. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes, taking in the sight of Josephine DeLancret on her doorstep.

"Mademoiselle Josephine! You are looking so well," said Jeanette in French. She opened the door and coaxed Sophie in.

"Indeed, Jeanette. I'm afraid our reunion will be short-lived. You need to leave, immediately!" Sophie cried. Jeanette looked at her, simply confused.

"Why would I need to hide, Mademoiselle?"

"Sophie, please," Sophie said, dropping formalities. "Now, listen carefully."

Ten feet away from the door, Jack Sparrow and his cohorts had hidden behind a rather large bush. Sitting in the underbrush, Jack scowled. Both the maid and Sophie were speaking in rapid French, and even Marcus, who was French in origin, couldn't understand the dialect that they jabbered in.

The two women went completely inside, and Jack slipped up next to the door, so that it would mask him were someone to come out unexpectedly. This did him no good; he was to no extent fluent in French. He was, however, invoked into curiosity when Sophie began to talk extensively.

"There is a pirate ship on the ports of Calais," Sophie started. "They are looking for you to explain a map; my map."

Jeanette gasped a little, "How did they come across it, Sophie? Monsieur Quixcompuex had it locked away!"

Sophie nodded. "They pillaged his safe in New Orleans."

Jeanette crossed herself. "Is nothing sacred?"

"They want you to either tell them what it says, or tell them where Galvin is."

"But, Sophie, I know neither!"

Sophie's face grew dead serious. "That is why you must hide, Jeanette."

"Sophie, you know what the map says. Do they not know it describes you?"

Sophie shook her head. "They do not even know who Josephine DeLancret is!" Suddenly, a mischevious grin slid over Sophie's face.

Jeanette immediately grew nervous.

Outside, Aidan slid against the wall towards Jack.

"Captain, they could be plotting!"

"I'm sure they are, mate," The captain said softly. Aidan looked at him, confused. "I'm sure they are."

"So, if, and only if, you are captured, you will tell them that their answers lie in Countess Josephine DeLancret."

"But, Sophie, pirates. . .they'll kill me!"

"No, Jeanette. You need not worry about them. The captain promised me he wouldn't hurt you."

"The word of a pirate?"

Sophie sighed, and nodded. "He's a good man."

Jeanette shook her head; Sophie was not being very reassuring.

Jack heard them prepare to leave and he smirked. The trio rushed back towards the walls and straight to the port, where many of the members of the Black Pearl waited eagerly on the deck. Jack gathered three of his brawniest men and left behind Aidan and Marcus. They set out to capture Miss Sophie Personne and her partner in crime.

Jeanette fetched a cloak for them both; Sophie had come in nothing but her simple dress. Jeanette had fussed about how improper it was; Sophie wearing the clothes of common women, but she didn't need to be shushed more than once by the Countess. She took a small satchel of coins from Sophie and tied it to her belt.

"Go to America, to New Orleans, and tell Monsieur Quixcompuex of recent occurrences. The pirates will be dealt with, either way." Sophie said it in a malicious way that made her heart pang for Jack. Could she really hurt him so?

Yes, she resolved. He had tricked her into this. This was his fault. She reasoned with herself to the point of distraction. A cry from Jeanette brought her back to reality.

"Sophie!"

Sophie shook her head, and nodded to reassure Jeanette that this was indeed the right thing. The pair left the maids' quarters quietly and walked down the way towards the gate. The guard let them out, confused, but not willing to question the Countess.

Sophie found it only slightly ironic that she was ambushed by two huge men right after she parted with Jeanette to head back to the Pearl. She might have recognized the men from the crew of the Black Pearl if they hadn't hit her head on the road by accident.

Her last conscious thought was, 'At least Jeanette got away.'


	9. Fear and Anger

Sophie woke to the gentle rocking of the Black Pearl. She was surprised to find a lack of shackles or ropes binding her to a bedpost or something of the sort. Immediately, she recognized Jack's quarters, and as she did, the memory of what had occurred in her last moments of consciousness came to her.

Aidan must have been standing outside the door, because when Sophie said to herself, "Jeanette!" he came strolling in.

"Miss Sophie! You're awake!"

"Where are we?" She demanded, undermining Aidan's caring tone and standing to challenge him. Aidan raised an eyebrow. While Sophie was moderately tall, she was still shorter than Aidan's six feet and eight inches. Sophie glared at him. He smirked.

"We're coming across the middle part of the English Channel." Sophie nodded. That was to be expected; after all, Jeanette should have told them Sophie was in London.

Speaking of which, Sophie asked, "Where's Jeanette?"

"In Calais, probably returning to her home."

"Huh?" The latest statement had Sophie baffled. What did Jack want Jeanette for, then, if not to lead them to Josephine DeLancret on what he didn't realize was a wild goose chase?

(Three hours earlier)

Jack sat Jeanette down in his private dining room. The maid quivered with fear. "What are you going to do with me?" She stuttered in French.

"English, please, Mademoiselle."

Jeanette's eyebrows furrowed, partially in confusion and partially in response to Jack's sloppy English impression of the French language. Why did they all sound the same? "How did you know?"

"You were the maid of a man named Quixcompuex, no?"

Jeanette nodded warily.

"Well, Quixcompuex speaks excellent English. I could only assume, my dear, that you did as well." Jeanette glared at him suspiciously. "Now, tell me what you know about this map." Jack held up the map in front of the maid.

She gulped.

"Full story, missy."

Jeanette nodded. "You see, it starts with Countess Soleil and Count Phillip DeLancret, and their daughter, Josephine. Madam Soleil died and her husband could not control the free-spirited Josephine, so he sent her to her Uncle, Rene Quixcompuex. However, Monsieur Rene was away on business in New Orleans so often that his wife, Nadine, was often left to care for not only Josephine but also for her son, Galvin. Unfortunately, Madam Nadine despises children. She immediately sent the two away, where they ended up in the Far East. The map came back years later with Josephine, who was ready to act as Countess in her mother's stead at the age of eighteen."

"What happened in the Far East?"

Jeanette pondered for a moment. "I think she was trained as a Geisha."

"Then what's the map for?"

Jeanette shrugged innocently. "I don't know, but I bet she will."

"Where is she?"

"London, I believe. For a ball held for Prince George III."

"London it is, then," Jack said, then took Jeanette's hand. "Thank you, Mademoiselle Jeanette Fasset. You are free to go." Jeanette blushed. He led her to the deck and watched her disappear into the night. As soon as the maid was out of earshot, he shouted, "Gentlemen, we're going back to England! Make way for Dover!"

(Present)

Sophie went to storm out of the cabin, but Aidan blocked the door. She glared at him.

"Aidan, I have to see the Captain, immediately."

"I'm sorry, Miss Sophie, but ye can't. His orders."

"That I can't see him? He ordered that?" Rage began to accumulate in her.

Aidan smirked, debating on teasing the girl he saw as so short. When he saw the fiery look in her eyes, his mind was made up. "No, Miss Sophie. No one can see him." Teasing her would probably result in a swift kick to the goods downstairs.

Her eyes turned to slits. Subconsciously, Aidan's hands migrated to his crotch. "Move," She demanded.

When he didn't, she went to punch him in the stomach. It was a cowardly act, considering that she knew he could not hit back. She stopped herself.

Aidan could see the inner battle she was playing with. "Miss Sophie, I believe ye have some serious issues in accordance with taking your anger out on circumstantial presences."

Sophie raised an eyebrow, then shook her head, annoyed. "Listen, Aidan. Either you move, or I jump out the porthole."

Aidan snickered. "I mean no disrespect, Miss Sophie," He said patronizingly, "But I doubt you could fit."

Sophie glared at him again.

"So violent, Miss Sophie. I can tell what you're thinking about. You probably want to just about kill me right now. But think about it!" Aidan revised as she started to come at him. She stopped. "If you kill me, the Captain will be rather mad."

"Not much incentive to keep you alive, then, is it?" She sat down on Jack's bed.

Aidan opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again. The first thing to do when you realize you're digging yourself a hole is stop digging.

Sophie stood and walked to the porthole.

"Really, Miss Sophie, you aren't thin enough to fit. And anyway, all you have out there is water. Have you tried swimming the English Channel?"

Sophie smirked, and in her mind she said, "Once or twice."

"Don't try," Aidan said, worried about her smirk, "The cook won't like giving up some of his butter to get you out." He tried, but couldn't seem to keep the mocking tone out of his voice.

The smirk faded from her face. She, once again, glared angrily at Aidan, and, still glaring, she tied up the bell sleeves on both arms, revealing her wrists. She turned them over, and showed Aidan her Dragon and Snake tattoos, gesturing to them on at a time. Then, she gestured to the porthole. After grinning evilly at Aidan one last time, she whispered _"Labor Lapsus."_

Aidan couldn't believe his eyes when he witnessed what happened next. The snake tattoo on Sophie's right wrist popped up off of her arm in a spectral way, and wrapped its way up her arm. It then moved down the front right side of her body, simply elongating itself, not getting any thicker, and up the left, then the left arm, down the left side of her back and up the right, finally spiraling around her head.

When she was completely covered by the strange, ghostly glow, she bent herself over backwards, put two hands on the top of the porthole, and whisked her way through. When it looked like she wouldn't fit, namely around her breasts and hips, her body attenuated, just as the phantasmal snake had, and slipped through just as simply as the rest of her.


	10. A Short Flight

Sophie didn't have time to whisper the incantation that would allow her to breathe underwater. The fall from Jack's porthole to sea level was much shorter than she had anticipated. Frustrated with herself and now rather wet, she floated lazily to the surface and took a breath before ripping her dress off. The snake had returned to her wrist as soon as she hit the water. Soon, she was completely naked, in all of her tattooed glory.

She spit out the cold water in her mouth and gasped "Volos Pullus!" Then she turned her body over so her back was revealed to the air and her face was underwater.

To an on-looker, it would appear that black wings were growing from the water. In fact, that's exactly what Aidan saw, after he had ran to the deck and looked over the edge of the Black Pearl in search of the girl. Needless to say, the already shaken pirate was near fainting.

Meanwhile, Sophie felt the raven wings grow to their full potential and she stretched them before bringing them down swiftly, almost to the water, to lift herself. Once free of the waves, she flapped the wings harder and gained altitude.

The day was clear, and the shores of France and Britain were out of sight now, so Sophie allowed herself the pleasure of a short flight. The wings, which were roughly five feet in length each, propelled her to the light, fluffy clouds. She let the sunlight wash over her and relieve her of the cold, cold water that she had just plunged into. While the day was cool, Sophie didn't notice.

Aidan had fainted when he saw Sophie, naked, with large black wings protruding from her back, launch into the clear sky and circle around. Now a crowd of crewmembers were gathering around him. The commotion roused Jack, and he came to the deck. After taking a brief look at Aidan, Jack had walked to the helm. Leaning on it lovingly, he looked to the horizon.

Suddenly, a large black _thing_ swooped down, skimming the water, coming towards the Pearl. Its wings were humongous, feathered objects that blocked the view of the body of the creature. Only momentarily, though. And when Jack saw its body, he could not believe his eyes.

There was Sophie, in her birthday suit, a large set of wings behind her, swooping up towards the sun. For a moment all was frozen in Jack's mind. He didn't ponder his sanity. He didn't question how cold she must have been. He didn't even wonder how Sophie had hidden wings from him.

The only thought that came to his mind was, "Bloody hell, she'd be a riot in bed."

Sophie, unaware that Jack was watching, landed carefully on the quarterdeck at the bow of the Black Pearl, where her wings retreated. Content that the crew was busy with Aidan, who was just waking up, she tiptoed, covering herself, down the stairs to the lower deck, then down to the Captain's quarters.

Jack, still at the helm, smirked. "That's _very_ interesting."


	11. Seductive

Sophie, now out of view, ran to Jack's cabin, ignoring the fact that she was indeed naked, and burst through the door. She opened her mouth, ready to rip Jack's head off verbally for having her knocked out and tucked away, before she realized that Jack wasn't there.

She hadn't seen him in the cluster of crew members on deck or anywhere else on her escapade to his quarters. She walked towards the bed, wondering if he was hiding. She sat down.

Suddenly Sophie was self-conscious. She shook her head, incredulous to her own lack of judgment, and searched the room for clothes. Hers were gone; she figured that Aidan had grabbed them on his way to the deck, thinking she'd need dry clothes, or something equally unnecessary. After a long moment of searching, she finally found a stash of clothing under his bed in drawers that she hadn't noticed earlier beneath the mass of bedding. Most of it looked like things Jack would never wear: costumes and brocades too _clean_ to have ever been worn on the filthy pirate. She had even found a dress, with all the workings, stowed clumsily in the back corner.

She scowled. "Bloody pirate," she mumbled, and pulled the dress out. It was a barmaid's dress. She slipped it on, stretching the seams to fit around her heavily set waist and bust. As she pressed the skirt against her legs to flatten it, Jack came through the door.

Immediately, the captain opened his mouth to protest. Then he eyed the unannounced presence in his room. She was biting her lip, trying to push back the drawers with her feet and look innocent all at once.

He took distinct notice of the dress she was wearing. He faintly remembered it from a night of raucous sex with a barmaid in Tortuga. He grinned to himself as he thought of how he had thrown her off his ship as soon as he had finished, in nothing but a bedsheet. He still had the dress she had worn prior to his debauchery.

Sophie was well aware of Jack's eyes roaming over her body. Instantly she blushed. "Jack, I. . ."

She didn't need to finish an explanation. Jack spoke over her. "Why were ye running around buck naked on m'ship, lassie?" He demanded. She stuttered. Jack grinned to himself. She was right where he wanted her.

In her head, behind her stutter, Sophie kept in mind what Jack was leading himself into. She developed a sense of smugness. It didn't matter what he knew. He'd never put it all together in time.

What did he know?

Sophie decided she didn't care, and she pushed down the neckline of her (Jack's) dress seductively. "I'm sorry, Jack, dear. I'll try and keep my clothes on." She adjusted further to reveal her soft shoulders and more cleavage, if it was possible, then before.

Jack grinned stupidly and pulled at his pants. He caught himself when he noticed the fish tattoo on her neck again. He raised an eyebrow and walked towards her. "That's interesting."

Sophie gulped mentally and nodded. "Thank you. It's a relic from a vacation, so to speak."

Jack didn't question the ambiguity of the statement, but he did take notice of the distinct Japanese style of the fish. He had seen tattoos like that on Japanese sailors in Singapore. He tucked away the information. In his head, it didn't make the jump from Sophie to Josephine DeLancret yet.

Getting over the subject of her tattoo, Jack put his rough hands onto Sophie's shoulder, and drew her towards him. She pressed her body against his and his hand ran up through her hair at the roots. There, holding her, ready to passionately rip away her clothing without interruption, Jack's ship shook violently under him.

He cursed. There was definitely something cosmic preventing him from ravaging the curvy temptress in front of him.

The ship shook again and Jack detangled himself from Sophie, then rushed to the door, swung it open, and slammed it shut, leaving Sophie there alone and confused.

Jack was immediately on deck, shouting orders to Gibbs. There was a trio of ships following the Black Pearl, and they were flying a French flag. A cannon blast was heard, and the ship rocked again, the figurehead blown to pieces.

Jack threw his arms up in incredulous, angry exasperation and screamed, "Stop blowing holes in my ship!" He jumped around spastically. He looked around.

"Why on earth are we being chased by the French Armada?"


End file.
